


[BLOCKED]

by orphan_account



Series: Operation: Beautiful [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: All the losers are worried, Angst, Bad Jokes, Eating Disorders, Hurt Richie Tozier, Hurt/No Comfort, I promise, Other, Richie Tozier & Beverly Marsh are best friends, Richie Tozier has self esteem issues, Richie Tozier is trying his best, Sexual assault(mentioned), Steve Covall is a vegan nut and that’s it, This ones not that bad, Vomit, Worried Beverly Marsh, cause of course Richie vomits in every story, deprecating language, i told y’all this wasn’t how this story was gonna go, plot filler chapter, slight angst, sorry :(, tbh, there’s no fluff tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22930687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Richie doesn’t want to go home.
Relationships: Richie Tozier & Steve Covall, Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak, richie tozier & beverly marsh
Series: Operation: Beautiful [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603288
Comments: 1
Kudos: 58





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**Author's Note:**

> Hey :))) it’s been a while, sorry about that but, hopefully this chapter will be a small break from the angst that’s been going on...but, don’t worry. THERE WILL BE PLENTY MORE :)))!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

It wasn’t long before the clock stroke three and Steve called their meeting for the day adjourned. There was still so much more to talk about and, just this one time, Richie would rather listen than speak.   
But Steve had given him a very slow look up- his eyes halting on every wrinkle, stain, or sweat spot- and down then pat his shoulder.

“It’s nice that you’re choosing to be more mature about your work, Richie.” He said, sincerely, letting his hand slide off the comedian’s broad shoulder.” But, can you do it some other day, please? I’ve got a lunch meeting at three fifteen down at the new vegan place.”

Richie raised a brow.” The soup place?” It was a dumb question but- if it kept Richie away from home- he would play dumb.

Steve sighed and threw a black jacket over his shoulder.” Yeah, the-...the soup place. Vegan soup, grilled cheese, salads and all that,” Steve waved his hand at Richie while looking for something in his desk.” Yeah...bet you never heard of a place like that, eh?” 

A glittering set of silver keys, set to a beautiful sleek black Jeep, jingled in the short man’s hands. He gave Richie a cocky smile and licked his perfect white teeth.  
“ The wife’s been treating you good, right?” Steve stepped carefully around his rolling chair, picking up a suit case along the way.” Might be time to hit the gym before some fans start calling you Hill 2.0!” He cackled, the flash of white mint gum sticking to his molars imprinted with his teeth. 

Richie covered his stomach before his manager could poke his stomach. He gave a forceful laugh and stuck pale shaky hands into his pockets.   
“ You really think so? I thought being big was the fab nowadays?” Steve walked past and He turned to sit his butt on the desk. Facing him with a sly- sad-smile.

“ Maybe the fans would like it.”

Steve froze halfway from closing the door and gave Richie a frown. Scrunching you’re his nose in disgust.” I think that rule only applies to girls, Rich. Not some forty-“

“-Forty one.”

“-year old man who wears offensive shirt colors.” 

Richie looked down at the bright green and yellow shirt. He remembered getting it from a lost ‘n found at some rand-o bar three months ago. In a mosh pit of drunken girls, and men, dancing to the next greatest hit he’d been ripped out of his original shirt. Assaulted with plump, chapped lips that sucked on his bare neck and grabbed his ass like it was sand about to run through his hands.

The phantom feel of strong fingers still linger around his body- the pinch of teeth still tingling his skin.

A bouncer separated Richie from his ‘attacker’ and yelled a bunch of scrambled threats to another bouncer while ushering him into the back room. A tender hand on his back.   
He remembers a woman pressing a blue ice packet against his bruised neck and the intimidating bouncer pressing the god awful shirt in his hands, saying.

“ It’s not the prettiest but, lucky for you, it was the last shirt in your size.” He stood up straight with crossed arms. A serious expression.” I would like to humbly apologize for what happened out there and- by company law- I have to ask you that you do not press charges on the account we will provide you free drinks for a year.” 

Richie scrunched up his lips while slipping the shirt on, and the bouncer laughed deeply. A chocolate hand thumping between chiseled biceps that could be seen through the typical black shirt uniform.  
“ I don’t disagree with you, man.” The bouncer pointed at Richie with a lazily smile.” If I was you I’d sue this whole place- and their mamas. Shit like that-“ He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.” Has been going on for months, man. Months! And the manager won’t do anything about it.” 

Richie pulled the melting ice pack away from his neck. Nodding in interest as the man talked with his hands.

“ He won’t hire a new bouncer- there’s not enough pay for that! He won’t let the bouncer inside- they’re jobs to be outside! He won’t let the bartender refuse drinks or leave his station- it’s a waste of good money! Argh!” The bouncer- Jimmy, it said, on his name tag- clenched his fists with bared teeth.  
“ Oooo, sometimes, I just want ‘ta punch that man- ya know?” Richie jumped slightly at the quick snap of Jimmy’s head, but nodded, respectively.

“ From the sound of it- it Sounds like ‘ye ole boss man needs a taste of his own medicine, no?” Richie pushes himself up from the metal folding chair and offers out a hand.

“Richie Tozier.” A soft smile spread across his lips, and Jimmy smiles back. Clasping Richie’s hand with a strong grip.

“Jimmy.” He tapped the metal tag.” No last name. Nice to meet you.”

They had a lovely conversation after that. About dogs, aspirations, and random subjects that seemed to jump from one conversation and string to the next.

Which is strange since they began talking about taxes and ended with the question what kind of cheese defines you? Just a goof off the latest buzzfeed quizzes.

Apparently, Jimmy was spicy jack and, Richie, swiss.

He regrets not landing that man’s number in his pocket.

Richie comes back from his reminiscing to give Steve a shrug.” You’re just jealous of these curves,” Richie gestures fo himself- his sides burned.” And my AMAZING fashion sense.” 

Steve rolled his eyes and turned to leave.” Whatever you say, Richie.” And left the door cracked. His footsteps fadded down the hall with little stops to talk with other co-workers and the ding of the elevator echoed through the empty hall.

Richie puked into the desk side wastebasket. Horrified coming to the realization- a little late- that it was full of holes.

He spent the next few minutes cleaning up his watery vomit- gagging a multiple times- as well scrubbing down the carpet with bathroom hand soap.   
It wasn’t the best of jobs, not by a long shot but, when the smell of stomach acid was replaced with a senseless odor hinted with green apple, Richie deemed it ‘good enough and left.

Passing by the pastry array, a chocolate glazed donut called to him. Shinny and sickly sweet- dripping with glaze melted by the sun popping in an adjacent window.

Richie picked up the donut- turned it in his hands- and then threw it away. He washed off the excess glaze, nose scrunching up at the way dry sugary icing turned slippery with warm water, and took the stairs.

His feet dragged to the offensively blinding red sports car. Hands sweaty with nerves when the sight of his bagged lunch innocently sitting in the passengers seat burned a hole in his empty stomach.

Richie swallowed and forced himself into the car but didn’t start it.

Not wanting to have a mental break down in front of his work- scared there might be paparazzi lurking about- Richie simply gripped the steering wheel and rested his head on the space between.

‘Inhale one, two, three. Exhale, one two three. Repeat.’

The sun started to bubble skin on the back his neck- fat neck, remember that?- before the tremors in Richie’a hands dissipated. His heart beat sluggishly beating.

Richie hit his head against the steering wheel once- accidentally pressing on the horn for half a second- and sat up.

He unclamped his stiff hands from the sweat slicked leather. Molding back into the seat, he turned his head to look out the window while blindly searching for the brown bag.

Picking it up, he wasn’t surprised at how light it felt, the sound of a plastic bag rubbed against the paper. 

It crinkled loudly when being opened. Richie set the bag in his lap and peered inside.

The brown paper sacked contained exactly what Richie intended- diet foods- but, the complete opposite of what he would find.

Pills. Diet pills in a ziplock bag. Two colored an unnatural bright blue that hurt Richie’s eyes and three red pills that reminded him of ibuprofen. 

They were clearly made to be swallows with water, but a scribble of back sharpie on the back specified that he swallow them without. 

Richie stuck his tongue out in distaste.

Closing the bag he chucked it behind him without looking at where it landed and cranked the car.

His stomach vibrated against the seatbelt with hunger. Slightly pinching and bubbly like curdled milk. The reflection of nearby restaurants flashed in his car mirrors- almost tempting him with their ridiculous eye pulling colors.  
The smell of salty fries wafting through hot California Air Force Richie to close his window and blast the A/C.

A plan to get some cheese sticks and nuts from the store assembles in his mind while waiting for a red light to turn green. He puts on his blinker at the idea of buying a water as well.

Eddie wouldn’t have to know...would he? It’s not like he’s eating a full meal- like he did for breakfast. Just a cheese stick and some nuts....and water.  
A filling snack for lunch time.

Yes, he would get almond nuts.

Going through another red light- he thinks he’ll get two cheese sticks, almonds, and water. Just to satisfy him before...whatever dinner will be.

Richie is casually swinging into the first empty parking spot- which happens to be the farthest one away from the store- when his phone, forgotten in the cup holder, begins to ring.  
He freezes, momentarily, panicked it was either his boss, or Eddie, calling him about whatever bullshit he didn’t do.

Tilting the phone out of the suns glare, the caller ID is in big blocky letters.

[BLOCKED CALLER] followed by a stream of numbers. It’s not Eddie, or his manager, not even a person in the same state as him.

It could be a telemarketer...trying to sell him a free cruise ticket if he gives them his credit card numbers but, it’s not the same annoyed feel that he gets with most other callers. His heart feels stretched, and hands shaky.

He answers the call before it goes the voice mall.

No one on the other end speaks. Richie hesitantly brings it to his ear.

“ Uh...Hello?” 

“ Richie!” 

The piecing scream of his own name through the electronic device rings in his ear. He pulls the phone back, wincing, and has half the mind to listen to the caller as he knocks the side of his head with one hand.

“Richie! Oh my god, It’s soo good to hear your voice! How’ve ya been? You haven’t called in a while, are you doing okay? Me and Ben were thinking on-“

“ Yes! Yes! It’s good to hear from you too, Bev. I’ve been good, yourself?” Richie twits his pinkie around his ear when interrupting the brassy woman.” Just been a little busy, that’s all...you said you and Ben were...?”

The phone crackles for a second, and muffled murmuring can be heard in the back ground. Was she with someone?

He didn’t ask.

“Oh! Yes, good good and, yeah. Me and Ben were thinking on coming down to California for a few days- Ben has a little business meeting to go to the first day but, we decided to take the chance while we were there and experience the wonders of California!” Bev squeals happily as Richie picks at his nails with a small smile.

He missed her.” You need a place to stay? Hotel Tozier-Kaspbrak is open and ready to serve your every need! Even clip your toe nails with out teeth!” 

Beverly made a disgusted sound on the other line, and someone else giggled. She shushed, whoever it was, and Richie stared at the phone quizzically.

“ Beep Beep, Trashmouth!” She rustles the phone in her grip, grunting.” We’ve already got a nice condo rented out- one real close to the beach! We didn’t want to impose of you and....Eddie.” Her Pause was unsettling.” But, we are definitely going to visit! No doubt about it!” 

Richie scratched at his cheek.” That’s great, Beverly. Can’t wait.” He didn’t mean for his tone to sound so off- maybe to busy to care, yeah but, not dead.

Beverly didn’t mention it, and neither did the person- persons- clearly sitting in the room listening to him on speaker phone.

Richie’s stomached growled. He wanted to get the cheese.

Beverly was mid way through a sentence Richie didn’t even have the heart to care about.”- Okay, Bev. It’s been nice talkin’ to ya but, it’s past my lunch time and I’ve got a hankering’ for something heavy.” He Lied through his teeth while smacking an open palmed hand on his stomach. Cringing at the wave his body seemed to push back at him with a wobble.

Only one cheese stick....and a water.

Beverly sputtered through the phone, calling his name, but Richie spoke over her with a quick “Okay, love you, bye.” And hung up.   
He sunk back into his chair with a sigh. The phone falling out of his hand and in between the small crack by his chair.

It would be a pain to get it back out when he needed it but as his phone rang again, he would let it happen.

Richie waited until the vibrating stopped, and phone went to voice mail, before getting out.

The trudge to the front store was a long one but he could manage it- he needed to walking- and enjoy the nice warm air. 

Richie smiles to himself as said wind blew through his hair and headed towards the electric doors with hands engulfed by his pockets.

He didn’t turn around to make sure his car was locked- Just satisfied by the beep that followed him pressing the lock button.

But, had he turned around, a man with sad, brown eyes and a bloody cheek would be sitting in the passengers seat.  
Tears mixing with dirt- well, it looked like dirt- and blood as he reached out to the y’all man’s back.

He mouthed something through thin lips- but nothing was heard- and pulled a fist to his sunken chest. Weeping with no shame and screaming at the glass when his sobs began too much.  
No one reported anything unusual that evening...and the security cameras malfunctioned seconds before their scheduled time to sweep the parking lot.

Richie came out of the store minutes later with each hand clutching something- one single cheese stick and a water bottle. The clerk gave him a strange look and simply muttered under their breath.

“People and their diets these days.”

The comedian thought it was rather rude.

Clambering into his low seated car- for his height- his eyes caught sight of something in the back.

He turned his upper body- thoughts churning in his head with the stupidest ideas.

‘Did someone break into my car? Is there a stowaway? A dog? A cat?’ Just...the Stupidest...but, they would of made sense.

This, however, didn’t. 

Richie piked a ripped up piece of his bagged ‘lunch’ and examined it carefully. It’s edges were damp with an unknown liquid, and a single finger print was on the back- front? Inside?- of the paper.

He laid the piece down carefully and stared at the other ripped pieces dumbfounded. They were all in a neat pile on his floor board...stacked.

Richie dug into the pile, licking his lips, and smithed it out till all individual pieces could be seen. None overlapped. 

He raised a brow.

The zip lock bag was missing...along with the pills.

An earlier thought can back to him.

‘ Maybe it was a druggie?’

He looked at the window behind his seat, squinted at the smudged finger prints on the glass, and shook it head.

Yes. Definitely a druggie.

**Author's Note:**

> ....:) hope you liked the ending.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!! Leave a comment if you want too, and have a good day :))!!


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